


Happier, One (Broken) Step at a Time

by wordcountenthusiast



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Like he should be, M/M, and he gets hurt, background ironstrange, but that's okay, stephen strange is happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 14:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15511983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordcountenthusiast/pseuds/wordcountenthusiast
Summary: Fuck.Stephen was the team’s doctor.That was all he could think as he saw the projectile rip through his defenses and the protective flesh of his right leg only to embed itself with a wet ‘thud’ into his bone.





	Happier, One (Broken) Step at a Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Here's another fic! Please leave kudos and a comment if you like it. I probably messed up some of the medical stuff but whatever.
> 
> And feel free to find me on tumblr, my url is word-count-enthusiast.

Fuck.

 

Stephen was the team’s doctor.

 

That was all he could think as he saw the projectile rip through his defenses and the protective flesh of his right leg only to embed itself with a wet ‘thud’ into his bone. A scream of pain ripped from his mouth. He could only imagine the shattered bone, the bullet, the blood. His artery. Despite his daze of pain, Stephen reached down to gently touch his leg. It had entered high on his thigh, on the outer side.

 

It had missed the artery. Thank fuck.

 

Stephen finally collapsed, a silent whimper parting his lips as bombshells of pain radiated through his body. He had seen a patient with an injury like this before. Probably more than one.

 

He had denied them the surgery they needed. Too boring, he had said. Karma was a bitch.

 

Stephen’s vision slowly faded as he submitted to the pain, his last thoughts being the vague hope that his team could win the fight so he didn’t, you know, die.

 

Besides pain, the last thing he felt was his ring, on a chain around his neck, pressing into his chest. It felt impossibly heavy.

 

* * *

 

“I’m- I’m gonna take care of you, okay Stephen?” Tony’s voice penetrated the haze of pain surrounding him, just long enough for him to focus.

 

“Did- did we win?” He coughed, voice raspy and throat sore. He only had a vague memory of the battle and the injury, and as the pulses of pain dragged through his body and mind, he remembered less and less.

 

Tony nodded and his suit’s mask flicked over his face. Stephen let out a choked moan as his cold metal arms closed around him, gently lifting him. He blacked out again.

 

* * *

 

Stephen shifted in and out of consciousness as he was wheeled into the hospital. The familiar yell of doctors, bright lights, and never ending _pain_ was so familiar. He couldn’t lose his hands _and_ his leg. That was too much.

 

He was going to need surgery, to repair the bone and remove the bullet. He knew that, without a doubt in his mind, so as the painkillers hit his system and the scans came through and the doctors demanded that an OR should be booked, he prepared. He closed off his mind, barricading his thoughts and feelings behind a roiling wall of fear, pain, and dread.

 

 

* * *

 

The world flickered into bright focus as Stephen tentatively opened his eyes to the surrounding world. The intense fear of the hospital, of losing his leg, flooded back to him, and he closed his eyes, attempting unsuccessfully to hold back a wave of tears.

 

“You’re awake.” Tony’s voice was somewhat comforting, but the sense of impending doom looming over him didn’t lessen.

 

Tony, Scott, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Barnes, and even Rhodes stood around him, the group almost filling the hospital room to its capacity.

 

"Did they... Did they take my leg?" Stephen wiped his eyes with his shaking hands, slightly embarrassed to let Tony and the rest of the team see him cry. It was just that this was hauntingly familiar, the bright hospital, the mind-numbing pain, but this time he was surrounded by people who cared.

 

"No. I- I wouldn't let them do that." Tony smiled at him, and Stephen felt his heart melt a little bit, despite his current situation.

 

He smiled in return, and despite the dull agony from his leg, he was happy.

 

"The rest are getting coffee. You've been out for a while." Stephen nodded at Bruce's words, and closed his eyes once again. Despite the alarming situation he was in, he felt... okay. He was safe. He was among friends. It would be okay.

 

After a little while, a knock at the door halted the quiet conversations in the room.  

 

A woman in a pristine white lab coat walked in, with a friendly smile on her face. She had brown eyes and dark olive skin, and her appearance seemed somewhat familiar to Stephen, like he had known her in a past life. If he believed in reincarnation, anyway.

 

She addressed the room. "Hi, I'm Doctor Thalia. And I'd like to speak with Mr. Strange one on one, if you wouldn't mind leaving for a few moments." Stephen's friends slowly filed out of the room, still talking with hushed tones and happy smiles.

 

"As you probably just heard, I'm Dr. Thalia, your orthopedic surgeon. I'd like to give you some information on your injury and healing process." Stephen nodded and she continued.

 

"Although we didn't have to amputate, there was extensive damage to the bone and surrounding muscle in your leg. However, there was minimal to no damage to your femoral artery, otherwise you would probably be more dead right now."

 

"We removed the smallest bone fragments from your leg, the ones that couldn't be placed for reconstruction. We also used screws in your bone to help secure it while healing, like they did with your hands." She nodded down to his scarred hands, and Stephen self consciously clasped them together. "You may not regain full mobility in your leg, but that's somewhat unlikely if you follow the rehab and physical therapy regiment well. Everything should be fine."

 

"One more thing. There will be some physical differences in the muscle in your leg. We did have to remove some tissue due to fear of infection, but it shouldn't be much of a difference." Stephen winced. Of course there was a catch. And not regaining full mobility wasn't really conducive to being a superhero and Sorcerer Supreme. But it was okay. Better than his hands, at least.

 

"Thank you." He said.

 

"Of course. I'll tell your friends that they're welcome to return as I leave." As she left, the Avengers walked into the room. Stephen continued to think about Dr. Thalia. She was kind and succinct in a way that he never was as a surgeon, and he had confidence that she did her very best to help his leg. Most of his patients ended up resenting him, but he found himself content and happy after speaking to her.

 

"What's the report?" Steve asked, eyeing Stephen's leg under the blanket.

 

"Nothing too bad." Stephen replied. He decided to leave out the part of maybe not being a superhero anymore, for now at least. He and Tony could be concerned about that later.

 

As the day wore on, their conversation continued in fits and starts, and towards the end of visiting hours, Stephen’s friends and team members began to leave. None of them were able to stay the night, even though he had to, but he wasn’t lonely. He was happy. The last time something like this happened, his life was irrevocably changed. Sure, he came away from it with friends, a fiance, and powers he never could have dreamed of, but sometimes he missed his old life.

 

Sometimes he wanted his hands back. Sometimes he wanted to go back to having expensive things and doing amazing surgeries and having complete control over his circumstances. But really, he was doing more good now.

 

Stephen was so happy to save lives. It was what he always did, but now he could do it unconditionally, without discrimination, and he really was more of _him_ than he had been in a long time.

 

As he drifted off to sleep, the dull throbs of his tired body and mind slowly faded, leaving only a slightly fitful and dreamless rest. But he was happy. That was what he had wanted for so long, and now, in the dim light and noise of a hospital, where he had spent most of his life, he was.


End file.
